A LOON CRIES

By Katherine Carroll

The smooth dark surface of the water

Reflects the deepening blue of October skies;

The last boat climbs the steep slope to its final resting place;

Vans are packed, shades are drawn, a loon cries;

Another summer fades;  

The echos of children’s laughter lost among the falling leaves;

A soft blanket of misty fog gently settles upon the lake;

As it prepares for it’s long winter’s sleep-

Memories-friends gathered on a screened porch;

a skier jumping through a boat’s wake;

A yellow kayak or a red canoe slithering silently along the surface of the lake;

Are tucked away like discarded photographs

in the attics of our minds;

To be taken out and fondly remembered one by one;

While we warm ourselves by a distant fire;

or a southern sun;

And hanging on the wall of our hearts

is the still-life painting;

Of a cottage standing beneath tall pines;

Beside a frozen lake;

Waiting for our return.